Before the Shattered Gates of Heaven

by Bryan S. Glosemeyer

  “I haven’t told the skins about your bloodline and how that may factor into the warseers’ request. Some of them have their suspicions though, I’d wager. They may recognize your blood glyph. Either way, the rest of the skins would eventually hear that you’d been summoned. I wanted them to hear about it from their ranks first.”

  First Drum Lance moved in closer, inspecting her uniform tunic as he spoke. Though he wasn’t as old as Grandfather Spear, he had nearly the same number glyphs running down his scalp. But while long, straight scars crisscrossed Spear’s face, melted flesh crawled up the right side of his neck, leading to the silvery biomech mounds replacing his lost ear and larynx.

  Servant Hatchet, a skin in the crew’s left arm, had told her that Lance’s side had been melted by vleez acid rounds. The Divine Masters valued his service so much, they gifted him biomechanics to replace what the acid burned away. First Drum Lance gave a brief nod indicating his satisfaction with her appearance and turned to Arrow.

  “I’m sure Attendant Spear informed you of protocol, skin,” said Caller Arrow. “Just do what we do, and for once maybe you won’t end up covered in grank shit.”

  “Yes, Caller,” she said, jaw clenching. Covered in filth and incompetence was absolutely not how she wanted Arrow to think of her. She suffered her prodding and other punishments in silence and determination, but it seemed to make no impression on him.

  Part of her wanted to scream that it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to tell them all, that if Daggeira hadn’t cheated, the grank wouldn’t have woken up, and everything would have been fine. But she knew better. All three of them were being punished as one. If she had tried to shift the greater weight of the blame to Daggeira, she would have looked both incompetent and weak.

  Is that what Daggeira is always smirking about? It may be part of it, but Sabira felt that there was something more going on there.

  An announcement of horns sounded, calling them all to attention. The five servants fell to their knees as Warseer Maru Ahzk Vohg and Penultimate Hamu Ohrus Izd entered the high balcony overlooking the wedge. Along with them were the Pinnacle of the Zol-Ori, Urzdek Rab Izd, and the Pinnacle of the Ihvik-Ri, Dzor Bohru Jerik. The pinnacles remained at the back of the balcony, six yellow eyes imperiously observing them all in silence. Light strips gleamed off the nine horns of their high, sloping heads.

  Sabira felt her scars itch and a hot tingling in her cheeks.

  The light strips dimmed, except for the focused lights above the nine pedestals standing around the wedge. Every pedestal displayed a three-sided pyramid, each crafted from pure holy ore to represent the Gods. Trigonal pyramids for the three male Gods stood in each apex. Tetrahedrons representing one female and one androgyne God stood in pairs along each of the three walls. Surrounded by her Gods and kneeling before her Gohnzol-Lo, Sabira felt a profound dread fill her chest.

  “May the Gods see us,” intoned the warseers. “May the Divine Masters see us.”

  The servants echoed their call as one.

  With a slight gesture from Penultimate Ohrus Izd, a holo-projected starscape filled the center of the wedge. The view was the same Sabira had been emerged in for almost half the shift, but now confined to a small projected sphere instead of enveloping the whole room. The penultimate gestured toward the same bright star that Spear had shown her. The holographic environment highlighted the star. A scroll of shining data floated in space alongside it.

  “Target System Thirteen-Nine-Seven,” announced Ohrus Izd. With another slight gesture, the small dot grew larger and closer. The starscape blurred and stretched as the holo zoomed in. The view passed through a cloud of lonely ice chunks, tumbling slowly in the blackness. The projection finished zooming in and focused on a gigantic gas planet swirling with yellow, green, and purple storms.

  “The first of two overt targets.” Ohrus Izd highlighted a moon in orbit around the gas giant, and the whole rocky sphere seemed to hang in the dark before them. On the moon’s surface, dots of light outlined a complex of domes, buildings, and large machinery. A swarm of ships ascended from and descended to the complex while another swarm of armed vessels patrolled in synchronized orbits around the moon.

  “Target Thirteen-Nine-Seven-dash-Seven-Three. The Vleez have discovered a rich deposit of aku-vayk on this moon,” said the penultimate. “A fully functioning mine and a steady supply chain delivering the ore throughout the Monarchy has already been established. Pyramid Zol-Ori will lead the assault and confiscate the mine for the Unity.”

  Aku-vayk, the holy ore. Gods bones. One of the rarest and incredibly valuable resources in the galaxy. Long ago, the Old Masters had learned how to find and process the holy ore, and forever changed the realities of interstellar travel. Once processed, the aku-vayk could be used to change the shape of space itself. Sabira didn’t claim to understand what changing the shape of space actually meant. The Divine Masters alone bore the responsibility of understanding the miraculous technology that gave their ships gravity in deep space and the speed to travel between stars in days instead of centuries.

  To conquer the Vleez mine and claim it for the Unity would be a major strategic victory. Sabira couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. Bringing a supply of gods bones into the Unity would mean a great deal of honor and glory—possibly even multiple new glyphs to celebrate the victory—but those glories would go to servants aboard the Zol-Ori.

  The holographic view pulled back from the rocky moon and zoomed past two more smaller planets, unremarkable and lifeless, before halting again at a third. A voluptuous, purple and green crescent filled the wedge. Bands of dazzling white rings encircled the crescent and disappeared into the planet’s shadow.

  Warseer Ahzk Vohg took over speaking. “The second overt target, Thirteen-Nine-Seven-dash-Four, has been a Vleez world since ancient times. Some Masters believe it was their ancestors who aided Trickster in shattering the Gates. Now its influence has waned, but it remains a bountiful agricultural supplier to the Monarchy and their military forces.

  “Pyramid Ihvik-Ri will lead the assault to conquer the target planet for the Unity. Various tasks will be assigned specific military targets planetside and in orbit. Grank packs will target key infrastructures. Their gills will be loaded with a new strain. Even if a full military victory is not established immediately, we project that within five to eight weeks most of the Vleez population will have succumbed to the strain, and the planet will be ripe for unification.”

  The holographic view descended toward the planet’s surface, focused on a coastal city surrounded by brown and green hills.

  Ahzk Vohg continued. “Finally, the first covert target, your mission. Before the assaults begin, your crew will take a wrecker in stealth mode and land here.” A wide, flat shipping port north of the hive city was highlighted, coordinates and statistics data floated above it.

  “Our intelligence reveals that the Monarchy has made contact with a new civilization from beyond our local cluster. The Nahgak-Ri know very little about these aliens and their intentions. During recent raids on Unity outposts, Monarchy invaders have captured several khvazol and transported them to this target planet. We believe the Monarchy is offering the khvazol to this new alien civilization as part of an exchange for an alliance against the Unity.”

  Sabira recoiled at the thought of getting captured and offered as a gift to some strange alien species from across the galaxy. To serve anything but Divine Will in life meant the Gods would never allow her through the Shattered Gates in death.

  If I couldn’t kill them all or escape back to the Unity before they cooked me up or sold me off, then I’d just kill myself instead.

  She grew spiteful toward the captured nameless for being too weak to do the right thing and sacrifice themselves.

  Warseer Ahzk Vohg continued. “We have tracked the khvazol to this hive city, near where alien vessels have made landfall. Our stealth satellites have them tracked to a small area within the hive city but don�
��t yet have their exact location. The signals always emerge from and return to this same general area on the hive’s southern ridge. You will infiltrate the hive city, proceed to this target area, determine the exact location of the stolen khvazol, and reunify them. Additionally, you are to confiscate any targets with intelligence on this alien civilization. Once you are planetside, you’ll have one shift to complete your mission before the bombardments fall.”

  12.

  SABIRA FOUND CALLER Arrow in Conqueror’s Shrine. Standing at the entrance, she noted how even from behind he was handsome, the lines of shoulders to waist forming an inverted triangle. He knelt silently before the scarlet pyramid looming in the center, its trigonal tip directly below the shrine’s apex. Carved from solid, unprocessed aku-vayk, it dominated the room, radiating with sacred presence. A single cone of light fell from the sloping ceiling onto the pyramid. Holo-projected banners of victory glyphs lined the walls of green marble and offered the only other illumination.

  Sabira strode forward, careful to respect the silence, and knelt before the three-meter-tall tetrahedron of Gohnarus Conqueror. Like Arrow a few spots over, Sabira pressed the knuckles of each fist together before her sternum and closed her eyes to pray. Gods knew she had plenty to pray for, from the nine eyes healing on her back to the infiltration mission awaiting them, but she could not focus her thoughts on devotion.

  “Caller, please,” she spoke just above a whisper, her eyes still closed, “I hope you can forgive me for disturbing your prayer.”

  She heard him take a sharp, controlled breath. “You have something to tell me that is worthy of such a disturbance?”

  “I don’t . . .” She felt herself faltering and tried to regain her mental footing. Why did he have such an effect on her, she wondered, always able to throw her off balance? “I don’t know that what I have to tell you is worthy of disturbing your prayer, Caller, only that I need to tell you.”

  “Say what you have to say.”

  “I didn’t want it,” she said. “I mean, I did—I do—want it. But not like that. I’ve earned every glyph I have, and I’ll earn every one to come, Gods see me.” Sabira opened her eyes and turned toward him.

  His eyes remained closed, his face expressionless. Arrow’s attractiveness differed from the pretty pillows she’d known. If you focused on individual elements it might be hard to consider him handsome. His nose had been flattened by several previous breaks, his jawline was thick and his brow heavy. When his eyes weren’t closed in prayer, his pale gaze was intelligent and penetrating. When she took in all the elements of him at once, his magnetism was undeniable.

  Open your eyes, and see me, Arrow. A flash of ecstatic memory. The drum rites. The command in his grip. The raw strength of him inside her.

  “I don’t want to be treated any differently for who my blood-mother is or who my Master is,” Sabira continued. “No better, no worse. Conqueror see me, my honors should be for the blood I shed, not for the blood I inherit.”

  Sabira waited through a tense silence for him to respond.

  “Finished?” Arrow finally asked, eyes still closed, fists still held in prayer.

  “Yes, Caller.”

  No, not finished. See me. See how hard I work. See how hard I fight. Open your godsdamned eyes, and tell me that you know I’ve earned this.

  Arrow’s eyes remained closed as he spoke. “You kneel here in Conqueror’s Shrine, and you confess your innermost thoughts, filling the silence with words. Is this Dancer’s Shrine? Or Mother of Life’s?”

  “No, Caller. As you say, Conqueror’s Shrine.”

  “As I say,” Arrow repeated, as if in contemplation. “Listen, then, to what I say now. There are Nine Gods beyond the Gates, and we must honor them all. But mine is the God of Servants. Gohnarus Conqueror, Son of Star Father. If you want me to see you, skin, if you want to be seen by this crew, then make Conqueror see you. And believe me, pleading and confessions will not rouse Him.

  “Deeds, Sabira. Actions. Sacrifice. Results. That is the way of Conqueror and the way of the Servants. Only this calls our God’s attention. Only this matters. If there is something you want, you conquer it. If you want me to know that you value honor more than privileges, you make it happen.

  “Because the truth is you are the property of the Ihvnahg-Ra, and you are the Handmaiden’s blood-daughter. Your bloodline has been crafted for a purpose. A purpose neither you nor I can turn a blind eye to.”

  “Even if my own crew resents me?” she asked.

  “We all must face the truth of ourselves,” Arrow continued. “Whether it’s the scars we deserve or the privileges we don’t, we must face the truth of who we are. If you cannot see the truth of yourself, Sabira, then no matter where you are or what you are doing—kneeling in a shrine or infiltrating the target—then your actions will fail, and your sacrifices will mean nothing, and the Gods will not see you.”

  Silently, Sabira stood and looked one last time at her caller, his eyes still closed to her, before turning and walking back toward the entrance.

  “Sabira,” he said a moment before she left the shrine.

  “Yes, Caller.”

  “You are not the first to wear the nine eyes on your back. You won’t be the last. All of us have . . . made unwise choices. Especially when we were young skins. Offer your pain to the Gods. And remember what I’ve told you.”

  You are right. I see you. I hear your words and know you are right. Actions. Sacrifice. Results. That is how I will make you see the truth of me, Arrow. And I of you.

  13.

  THE ENTIRE TRIDENT of Servants, over two thousand named warriors, filed into the Servants Hall on the drummers deck of the Ihvik-Ri. They were blessed to be among the very few humans to travel the stars. Blessed to be the enforcers of Divine Will. Blessed with names. With purpose. And Sabira was blessed to be one of them.

  Once inside the hall, the trident organized themselves into three prongs. Within the prongs, they configured their divisions from line to duty to task to crew. Each crew arranged itself into triangular wedges, interlocking with the two other crews of their task.

  The great hall reminded Sabira of Warrens Zevna. Both were wide enough to hold thousands of humans below a high, cavernous ceiling. Where the pillarwood trees and carved-out rock walls of the warrens were splattered with generations of graffiti, the ceramic walls of the great hall were spotless and gleaming white. Banners of all the warseers and their crews, colored in green, crimson, silver, and black, lined the walls like tattoos on a servant’s scalp. They hung below a high mezzanine enclosed in dark glass that ran the length of the hall on all sides. The Gohnzol-Lo oversaw their rites from behind the glass. Sabira wondered if they held their own ritual celebrations up there before heading to battle.

  Two hundred forty-three crews made up the trident. And her crew was one of only three to be called for special orders. She knew it was an honor to be drafted into Warseer Ahzk Vohg’s infiltration crew. Usually, servants who grew up among the Diggers or the Aggies were assigned to infantry tasks. Infiltration crews needed the most skilled and able servants for their missions. During Servant Discipline, Sabira had heard rumored exploits regarding some of the same infiltration crews she now served beside. For nine pits she had proved herself worthy of the Servants, and now that she was here, she fought to prove herself worthy of her assignment.

  I’ve earned my name and my scars, she thought. Maybe I haven’t truly earned a command summons, but I’ve earned my way into this crew. Let anyone who doubts it come make me prove it. If any doubts about her worthiness still lingered after these rites, then this mission would finally bury them.

  Their mission was going to be the most dangerous challenge of her life. Infiltrating an entire hive city of infidels to retrieve stolen humans and bring back enemy prisoners, all before the entire planet is under full assault from the Warseers, it sounded more like a suicide mission the more she considered it. Maybe this assignment wasn’t such a
n honor after all.

  From the moment they made landfall to the moment they docked back into the pyramid’s hanger, they would be in constant lethal danger. She would need to rely on her crew, and Arrow’s right arm especially, every moment for her survival. And they on her. But did Caller Arrow really believe she was up to the mission?

  Sabira had three days before they boarded the wrecker and infiltrated the target planet. The gathering of the trident for the drum rites of Dancer and Conqueror was her best and only chance to prove herself to Arrow before their mission. Gods see her, he would know the truth of her before the rites were done.

  After the crew had taken their place on deck, the servants stood at attention, drums resting silently at their feet. No one could begin drumming until the chosen had come through and consecrated them with the sacraments. When the last crew marched into position, a deep gong resounded throughout the deck.

  The Chosen were the only other shaft where humans could earn a name glyph. They toiled in service to the Akuhn-Lo Godseers, the priestly caste of Overseers, as the Servants did for the Gohnzol-Lo. As their shaft name implied, the Chosen were individually selected by the Godseers. Many, though not all, of those to be Chosen were ahno, an androgynous minority. The Chosen initiates must transcend nine trials to earn their names. But Sabira seldom saw a chosen with the scarification the average servant proudly bore.

  Draped in ceremonial robes of green and white, the chosen entered the great hall intoning a song of prayer. Hundreds of voices chanting in slow, deep unison created a hypnotic drone. Sabira lost herself in reverie for a moment, dreaming of the rites to come. Invoking Conqueror with Caller Arrow was the smart choice, but in her reverie, she called Dancer, as he had done in her initiation.

  The chosen gathered together on a wide, raised dais at the front of the hall. Once they were all assembled, their chanting ceased, and a low-frequency gong resounded. Sabira felt its heavy vibrations in her chest. They parted in half, and three Akuhn-Lo entered the dais from a rear portal. The godseers solemnly proceeded through the chosen to the front of the dais and looked out over all the trident. Godseers tended to be shorter than Warseers, their horns rounder, their skin a paler gray than shimmering silver.